ugh, josh gets so mad when i say "my". he's all, "babe, OUR wedding. OUR baby. OUR room. " FINE, i fold. i'll go ahead and assume this applies to all things of mine. OUR laundry, OUR vacuuming, OUR tv remote and OUR blow-drying of hair and doing makeup!? solid. :)
anyway, there i am, cleaning, by myself, in one room of the house, with no distraction from any other clutter infested part of OUR house. can you say PURE JOY? i can :) so, what a perfect time to call my mom and chit-chat?! after we talk shop (aka peyton's eating and sleeping stats), we sidetrack and i find myself sharing with her all that i envision peyton and i doing together as she continues to grow up. peyton. not my mom. well, my mom, too, i guess.
the things i want for peyton and i are the same things i remember of my mom and i. there was so much peace and security in JUST BEING with my mom as a kid. i had so much fun playing with her when my older brother and sister were in school and it was just the two of us. i'd sit in the car listening as she sang along to michael bolton and gloria estevan, driving across town to run errands. we'd hit up party city and the toy store, the grocery store, the oil change place. we'd stop for lunch and share arby's roast beef sandwiches, then continue to jcpenney for some new clothes. i'd wait patiently swaying my little legs back and forth under the chair as i waited for what seemed like hours as she got a teeth cleaning in. and i don't remember minding one second of it. because what was i going to do without her? mom was my life. my answer to everything. my problem solver, my security blanket. my question answerer, my make-it-all-better-gal, my jukebox, entertainer, and resting place. if it weren't for the fast that i was 4, it would have been considered dependant to an unhealthy point on the emotional scale. but, it wasn't. it was amazing. life was good. hanging with mom was all i knew and what made me happiest. my brother and sister tell me how much i was glued to mom as a kid (as if it was a bad thing) and my dad tells me no one other than family could pick me up or i'd freak. it's okay. i don't regret it. i'm thankful for that time with my mom. and now, i get to pass that on.
"where mommy go?", peyton says to the air when i've momentarily disappeared to the other room. "mommy's in your room putting dirty clothes away, babe." clack, clack, clack, go her footsteps as i hear her approach. "mommeeeee!" she squeals, with a smile. "mommy hode-jew, mommy hug-yeww." and after a big fall and some alligator tears, "mommmmmmm, uh, uh, uh, eeeeeeeee, uh, uh, uh." :(
and when we're walking side by side, and out of nowhere she throws her little hand in the air FULLY EXPECTING that mommy will be there to grab it. she knows i'm there. and she finds security in that.
it feels good. it feels REALLY good. and i'm not taking one bit of this for granted.